


Flowers and Bones

by fiftymillionstars



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dream Bubble, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-15
Updated: 2012-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 11:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiftymillionstars/pseuds/fiftymillionstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kanaya sleeps and dreams of <i>her.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers and Bones

  


> _And close your lips, child, so softly I might kiss you,_  
>  _Let your flower perfume out and let the winds caress you._  
>  _As I walk on through the garden, I am hoping I don’t miss you_  
>  _If all the things you taste ain’t what they seem,_  
>  _Then don’t mind me ‘cos I ain’t nothin’ but a dream._  
> 

Everything is blooming at once. The sun shines in the sky, almost too bright, and the flowers throw out their perfumes, hot and heavy. It's not a memory. Nothing in your garden ever grew this thick or tall or bright, and yet here your flowers are, forming tangles mazes with their lush, entwined leaves, multicoloured blooms from spring-summer-autumn-winter chaotically exploded side-by-side. It's a dream of what could be, the truth made into a better lie, artificially enhanced.  
  
The bright glare of the sun almost hides the pale glow of your skin.  
  
You stay still for long moments, letting the nonexistent time slip quietly by. Your lips are parted to drink in the thick air. It is weighed down with the gross perfumes of the delicate blossoms and merely hangs about you, not moving.  
  
Silence is queen. The sky blazes blue.  
  
You walk amiably forward. You have all the time in the world, for time is nonexistent here. All you can see are the thick maze walls your mutant flowers have formed and the blazing blue sky. The soft sounds of your feet on the gravelly soil and the quiet puffs of your breath are feeble challengers to silence's reign. You stop as a breeze springs up, curling around you, rustling the thick green foliage. Its touch leaves you feeling distinctly unclean.You close your lips, softly. The breeze sounds like a sigh.  
  
"I could kiss you."  
  
A quiet, ghostly voice echoes from beyond the walls of greenery. A voice you would know anywhere. A voice you recognise instantly, despite its new, whispery cadence, despite how long it's been since you've last heard it.  
  
"Vriska," you say, the perfume in your lungs turning her name into a sigh that floats away on the breeze.  
  
"Kanaya," she sighs in return, each syllable enunciated carefully and rolled off her tongue like a fragile glass marble.  
  
"Vriska — " you echo, and your voice is laced with longing. The sudden emotion is so powerful it rocks you back on your heels and leaves you staring at the blazing blue sky.  
  
"I could kiss you," Vriska repeats, and her voice is soft, as if she is walking away from you.  
  
"Don't go," you beg, but there is no reply save for the scandalized murmurings of the tortured green leaves.  
  
You stumble forward several steps, almost breaking into a run, but there are so many paths in front of you and you don't know which path will take you to _her._ Your heart aches. The feelings are too sudden, too strong, after so long a time feeling cold nothingness. Your body shuts down, stops responding; your feet grow roots. Your forward momentum doesn't cease and you sink to your knees, eyes once again staring at that blazing blue sky.  
  
"Kanaya," her voice murmurs, so close. To your right. You eagerly turn towards the sound but you face only leaves.  
  
"I miss you," Vriska's voice sighs, and at that statement all your poise and decorum flies away on the dirtying breeze and you are tearing at the leaves and the bulbous, distended flowers, trying to get through to her, fueled by pure desperation. The plants tear into your skin, and your blood blends in perfectly with the leaves, a macabre camouflage. With every drop you lose the constant hunger in your stomach grows stronger, and you hate yourself for it.  
  
Your hands become snarled in the vines and you can't pull them free, so you savagely lean forward and _bite_ them free, ripping out leaves and petals and stems with your too-sharp fangs. They taste hot and bitter and metallic, like fresh blood. Their texture is of torn flesh and splintered bones.  
  
You gag violently and spit out the shredded greenery, hands still working at the hole in the maze. And then suddenly your hands are grasping air instead of vines, and you feel the brush of fingertips not your own. You withdraw your hands and there's Vriska and _god_ she's beautiful, more beautiful then you ever remember her being. You squirm through the hastily-torn hole in the maze and your purple cape-sash catches on something. You let it slip away from your body, revealing the hole in your stomach that mirrors the one in the bushes.  
  
Vriska takes your hands as you emerge and then you are embracing her and she you. She smells of sweat and earth and metal, of broken promises and things that could have been. She smells wonderful. Your heart aches, and you can feel the blood begin to trickle down what's left of the small of your back. And then she is kissing you and your world is complete, it is perfect, and you lean into the much-needed embrace. You need this kiss, these moments, like a drowning man needs air. Your lips stay locked together for a nonexistent eternity.  
  
"Vriska," you whisper into her ear, your head resting on her shoulder, her arms loosely draped around you. "I tried to find you." It seems like it has been sweeps since the two of you last saw each other, since all the colour faded from Vriska's eyes until they became as white as your skin.  
  
"I know," she soothes you, your roles reversed in this distorted reality. "I know."  
  
The sky blazes down a bright bright blue. The breeze wraps itself around the two of you, carrying with it the perfume of a thousand rotting roses. You can feel her begin to slip away, and you latch on tight to her, not wanting her to fade away, not wanting this imperfect moment to end. "Vriska, please, please don't go — "  
  
She gently frees herself from your frantic grasp, giving each of your hands a soft kiss. "I'm nothing but a dream," she tells you sadly, giving you a gentle smile. There is pain on her face; she doesn't want to leave either. Her chest is painted the same blue as the sky. Up above and on her chest, the sun burns bright. 

"Nothing but a dream," Vriska sighs, and you sigh with her, sorrow echoing sorrow. And then she is gone and you are alone. The sun burns out; the flowers melt into a sludge of flesh and bones, grotesque swirling rainbows pooling about your ankles, your knees, your waist. Your nonexistent stomach growls in hunger, and you hate yourself for it.

"I love you, Vriska," you cry out, not knowing if she can hear you and not caring if she can't. "I'm so flushed for you."

Someone has set the dead sun on fire, and it burns a horrendous green in the black abyss around you.

  


You wake up with a start, all alone. The sickly sweet perfume of a thousand flowers pools around you. You don't try to stop the tears, and as they fall they stain your bone-white cheeks a dark leafy green. 

**Author's Note:**

> Semi-inspired by these two fics: [Stand For You, Or Fall](322859) and [The Fisher King](321179).


End file.
